September 16, 2004

September is National Preparedness Month. It therefore logically includes National Talk Like a Pirate Day. This is why it is laughable that I am neither remotely prepared for anything in the wedding/honeymoon/work category nor talking like a pirate.

Also, I do not know how I went this long without putting Guster’s Lost and Gone Forever on the iPod, but I’ve only just now done it. I have no excuse.

Now all I have to do is pack for the UK, back-up every file on my laptop, finish writing art descriptions, prepare two weeks of website freebies for Atlas, write my wedding vows, assemble the playlists for the reception, complete my writing assignment, buy 20 tickets for Sky Captain for use after the rehearsal dinner, prepare and mail packages to Australia and South Africa, get the hamster ready to travel, and calm the fuck down.

Then I get to wear the tux and the ring I just tried on, and kick it like there’s gonna be a law. After that it’s all jets and lag, engines and oceans, extra U‘s and fewer R‘s in the fish-and-chips, bangers-and-mash, Strat-This-Upon-That capital of the world. If you need to reach me, I’ll be in the castle on the hill, the island north of Scotland, the cinema on Portobello, the Eye on the Thames, in one of the world’s two great cities to endure the world’s two great urban fires. I’ll be jumping the pond, riding the rail, and driving on the wrong side for fourteen newlywed days, and you haven’t heard the last of it. So sod off, motherfucker, ’cause I’m going where the punks have been in revolt since they were painted blue.

Also, I’ll be in Wales.

Noise: Soul Coughing, “Screenwriter’s Blues”


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